


Tease

by Uhtsceatha



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-14 19:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3422480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uhtsceatha/pseuds/Uhtsceatha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan finds herself restless and unable to sleep, and, after being denied earlier that evening, decides that she will demand Solas to help her relax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tomorrow

Dalla groaned into her pillow, twisting herself under her sheets. She felt the wet heat dripping from her center slick her thighs as she rubbed them together, yet her fingers failed to offer her any hope of release; what she wanted, what she so desperately needed, was the man who was still hunched over his desk in the rotunda, the man who had seemed more eager to bury his head in a dusty old tome than between her legs.

She wrung her fingers through her hair and flopped onto her back. She was not a woman used to being denied. A simple shake of her hips or bite of her lip had always been enough to lure any man or woman who caught her eye to her bed, and yet she had been all but shouting “fuck me” at Solas, and all he had done was shake his head and turn another page. She normally tried to be patient – he always rewarded her for that once he finally got around to leaving his desk – but now desire was clawing at her, the heat burning in her core almost unbearable.

Dalla sat up, blonde hair falling over her bare breasts. She would not be content to spend the night alone squirming in her bed; Creators help her, she would take what she needed if Solas would not give it to her when she asked. She flung herself from her bed and only took the time to slip a loose blue tunic over her naked form before making her way –as quickly and as quietly as she could – down the stairs and through the Great Hall.

She lingered in the open doorway of the rotunda, leaning against the stone wall of the archway, her right arm slung across her hip. To her dismay, Solas was still nose-deep into that same stupid tome, dusty blue eyes gliding over the faded black ink. It took him a moment to become aware of her presence, and he did not shift his gaze from the pages when he spoke to her. “Da’len, it is late. You should be in bed.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, swinging her hips as she walked towards him, “I couldn’t sleep.”

He looked up at her only when she sat on the edge of his desk. Dalla smiled as his eyes lingered on her – her tunic was open at the sides, exposing enough of her smooth bronze skin to draw just the faintest touch of blush from his cheeks. “Oh,” he said.

“Mmhmm,” she drawled, lazily tracing the tattoos down her side to her hip with her fingers, delighting at how his eyes followed her. “I cannot seem to relax enough to sleep, ma vhenan. I was hoping you could assist me.”

“Da’len,” he said, clenching his jaw and dragging his attention back to the pages before him, “as I told you before, I am busy. I must finish reading through this –“

Dalla gently closed the tome’s cover and nudged it to the opposite end of Solas’ desk. “Tomorrow,” she said, straddling him and sliding into his lap. She took his hands in hers and placed them on her hips. “There are other matters that require your attention.”

Solas furrowed his brow but didn’t move his hands. “Dalla,” he began, his voice chiding, but had to bite back a groan as the lithe elf lowered her head and began kissing and nipping at his neck. She smiled against his skin and ground her hips against his growing arousal, her fingers pulling at his shirt, his digging into her skin.

“To-,“ she bit at his skin, “-mo-,“ she licked at his jaw, “-row,” she whispered in his ear.

“This is not the place, da’len,” he said, his voice steady but his grip on her hips tightening and threatening to sow her skin with purple bruises.

“Everyone’s asleep,” Dalla purred, trailing a hand down Solas’ chest. “And,” she nipped at his ear, “I seem to have forgotten my smallclothes in my quarters.”

She barely had time to gasp as, in one fluid motion, Solas grabbed her and hoisted her on top of his desk, his mouth crushing against hers. He kissed her, hot and hungry, his tongue tracing along her lip, demanding entrance. Dalla all too happily obliged and moaned, her hands grabbing at him, dragging him flush against her, but even that closeness was not nearly enough. She ground her hips against him, and he broke from her swollen lips to trail kisses down her neck.

“Vhenan,” he said against her skin, “do not start what you cannot finish.”

“If I didn’t plan on finishing, I wouldn’t have come here,” she replied, tugging at the lacing of his breeches. “Unless you don’t think you can keep up with me, Hahren.”

Solas growled in response and grabbed her wrists, pinning them behind her with one hand while the other thrust under her thin tunic and began kneading at her breast. His mouth resumed its work on the skin of her neck, sucking and licking and biting, his soft chuckles reverberating through her as he made her moan.

“Creators, Solas, please.” She struggled against his grip, arching her back, aching for friction. Solas pulled his body back just enough to deny her, his free hand gradually, painfully slowly, trailing down her abdomen towards the wet heat between her legs.

“Is this what you want, vhenan?” he asked.

“Yes,” she hissed in response, breath hitching as he dragged his fingers between her folds, circling lazily over her clit. She bucked her hips in rhythm with him, moans spilling from her lips until Solas reclaimed them with his own, swallowing the sounds of her pleasure as he worked her, faster and faster, her body trembling as he brought her closer to release. Dalla’s toes curled and her fingernails dug into the wood of the desk; a scream was beginning to build in her throat, her thighs quivering as she got closer and closer to the edge.

And then, just as she was about to scream his name for all of Skyhold to hear, Solas removed his fingers and watched her as he brought them to his mouth and languidly licked them clean.

Dalla’s wrists struggled against his hand and she wrapped her legs around his waist, desperately trying to pull him closer, but he took his free hand from his mouth and brought it to her hip, holding her down. She whined his name, cursed at him, and he simply remained still, towering over her, a sly smile tugging at his lips. He only spoke once she stilled, her chest heaving, emerald eyes glaring at him.

“I will not remind you to be patient again, da’len,” he said, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead. He released her and picked up the tome from the edge of his table, tucking it under his arm and walking towards the stairwell to the library. “I will see you once I have finished with my studies.”

Dalla _knew_ he smiled as her frustrated groan reverberated off of the stone walls.


	2. Finish What You Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dalla is interrupted in attempting to finally get some sweet satisfaction from Solas and takes the opportunity to try and get even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For ElvenSemi, for helping me with blowjobs and encouraging my smut.

* * *

 

Dalla had not slept well.  It had been a night of tossing and turning and cursing Solas in ways that would make Iron Bull blush, and when she was finally forced to drag herself from her bed, the only thing she could feel through her exhaustion was her burning, crushing lack of satisfaction.  She had been tempted to take her breakfast in her quarters, but she couldn’t glare at Solas from her balcony.    

So she sat in the tavern, emerald eyes narrowed, plump lips twisted into a frown, glaring daggers at the smug elf sitting across from her.  

“Holy shit, Chuckles,” Varric said, “what the Hell did you do?”

“More like what didn’t he do,” Bull said between spoonfulls of porridge.  He pointed his spoon towards Dalla.  “That is the face of a woman who needs to get laid.  Bad.”

Dalla grunted and angrily shovelled her breakfast into her mouth.

Varric laughed.  “Is that it, Inky?  Chuckles not been doin’ his job?”

“Oh, I assure you, I’ve been doing it _very_ well,” Solas said, his voice dripping like honey from his very _soft_ and very _skilled_ lips….

Dalla’s nostrils flared and she chucked her spoon at him; he easily dodged it, turning to smirk at her as it clattered against the wall.  Solas gently rubbed his foot up her calf and leaned forward to curl his index finger under her chin. “Patience,” he said, looking her in the eye.

She slammed her hands down on the table and stood, jabbing her finger at him.  “You,” she said in elven, “will be in my quarters at the end of the day.”  She then stormed from the tavern, Varric and Iron Bull’s laughter roaring behind her.

The rest of the day was torture.  Although she tried her best to avoid him, Solas seemed to ghost along her as she completed her duties, lavishing her with touches light enough to seem innocent but causing her to shiver and moan and feel heat growing deep in her belly.  Fingers lingering on her waist, mouth whispering in her ear, tongue licking at his lips… she had half a mind to wrestle him to the floor and fuck him for all of Skyhold to hear, but the almost constant company of her advisers and inner circle left her stewing in her soaked smallclothes.

When Dalla walked into her quarters, she was surprised to find Solas there, waiting for her.  He sat at her desk, the same tome from the night before in front of him; when he heard her door close, he purposefully pushed the book to the far side of the desk and looked up at her, tenting his fingers.  Dalla frowned.  

“What is that doing here?” she asked, motioning to the tome.

Solas smiled.  “Keeping me occupied while I wait for you here, as you asked.  I was wondering when you would finish with your duties.”  

She paused, arms crossed over her chest, glancing from Solas to the tome, and when he simply sat there, a smug smile stretched across his face, she strode across the room and thrust herself into his lap.  She straddled him, fists balled in the wool of his shirt.  “You’re an ass,” she muttered before kissing him hard, tongue tangling with his, her hips grinding roughly against him.  

He broke away from her with a chuckle, hands cupping the round flesh of her ass.  He dragged his mouth down her neck and, as cross as she was with him, Dalla sighed and rolled her head to the side, urging him to indulge in the sweetness of her skin.  “I am _very_ unhappy with you,” she said, struggling to stifle a moan as he licked and nipped at her.  

“And yet you are here,” Solas replied, giving her ass a firm squeeze.

“These are _my_ quarters.”

“And _you_ asked me to come here.”  He thrust his hardened arousal against her and she bit her lip.  “Unless you would like me to leave.”

Dalla grunted in response, leaning back to begin unbuttoning her shirt; she paused when she heard a knock at her door.

“Inquisitor?”  Though muffled by the wood of the door, the voice was unmistakably that of Commander Cullen.  “Do you, uh, do you have a moment?”

At first, Dalla rolled her eyes and began to groan, but then, in a moment of inspiration, her lips curled into a wicked smile.  She ducked down under the desk and yanked Solas’ chair towards her, nestling herself between his legs.  He leaned back to look at her, and she raised her eyebrows.  

A challenge.  

To her surprise, Solas shifted his weight, straightening his back and pulling the tome back towards him on the desk before calling out, “Come in.”

Dalla heard the shuffle of boots on stone as Cullen made his way into her quarters.  He paused a few feet away from her desk, shuffling papers in his hands.  “Oh, um, Solas,” he said -- Dalla could already picture his hand reaching to rub the back of his neck -- “is the Inquisitor, ah, is she….”

“She is not here,” Solas said politely.  “Some, ah-” he paused as Dalla’s fingers crept along his inner thigh, spreading his legs so she could lean in close to where his erection strained against his pants.  She drug her nails along his thigh with one hand while the other rubbed his cock through the fabric, biting her lip and moaning softly, thinking of how much better it would feel inside of her.  Solas cleared his throat.  “Some business in the courtyard.  She needed some Crystal Grace from the garden.  I am sure she will return shortly.”

“Oh, well, um, I can leave these reports here for her, then.  She ah, she stormed from the meeting in such a hurry that I never had the chance to give them to her.”  He began walking towards the desk, but Solas stopped him.

“Do you not see that I have my own business carefully arranged on this desk?” he said.  “Place them on the nightstand.”  Dalla continued stroking him through his pants, increasing the pressure of her fingers -- half to reward his quick thinking, and half to relish the feel of him, the hot hardness that she so desperately craved.  She was nearly squirming in her soaking wet smallclothes.

“Ah, alright then,” Cullen said.  He paused a moment before complying and then walking towards the door, looking over his shoulder to say, “I should still wish to speak with her, so do tell her I dropped by, won’t you?”

“Of course, Commander,” Solas said.  Dalla could practically hear him smirk, and the thought of how absolutely _predatory_ his face probably looked drew one of her hands into her breeches.  “But if you have a moment, there is actually something I should like to briefly discuss.”

“Oh?”  Cullen turned to face him, but did not move away from the door.  

“Yes,” Solas said, lightly kicking Dalla until she withdrew her hand from her smallclothes.  “Tell me, have your scouts uncovered any more shards in the Forbidden Oasis?”

Dalla nearly snorted, but caught herself.  He wanted to play this game?  Fine.  She would play.  

She leaned forward and undid the lacing of his breeches with her teeth; Solas hissed as she took his hard cock into her hands and resumed stroking him, opening her mouth and twirling her tongue around the tip.  The hard metal stud piercing her tongue pressed against the soft, sensitive skin, a wonderful juxtaposition that brought one of his hands under the desk and tangled his fingers in her hair.

Cullen shuffled his feet.  “Are you, um, are you alright, Solas?” the commander asked.

“Yes,” Solas said, his reply punctuated with a grunt as the tiny elf under the desk unceremoniously shoved his cock into her wet, warm mouth.  Dalla moaned at the feel of him, at the taste of him; her cunt clenched and she felt so maddeningly empty, her hands gripping at his thighs as she squirmed, heat and want dripping from between her legs.  

“So, about those shards,” Solas continued, his voice rising in volume to cover the sounds coming from beneath him.  Dalla flung her hands back and managed to get her hair into a sloppy ponytail as her head began to bob, back and forth, running her tongue along his length as she withdrew to the tip and then took him in again.  She pressed the stud against the underside of his cock and dragged it from base to tip as she sucked him, and when his hand clenched in her hair, she took him faster, harder, fucking him with her mouth as hard as she could without giving away her rather compromising position.  She braced a hand against his thigh while shoving the other into her smallclothes, but Solas kicked her again; she swallowed a groan and clenched her fists.

She felt his fingers dig into her scalp, felt his cock twitch in her mouth, and she knew he was close.  So she drew back, removing her lips from him, smug with the satisfaction that if she would not be allowed to finish then neither would he -- that she, too, could teach him lessons about patience.  She chuckled at her victory, but her laugh was smothered by a gag as Solas wrung both hands in her hair and thrust hard into her mouth, once, twice, and then came undone.  And Dalla had no choice but to swallow, disappointed at how hungrily she did.

Solas covered a moan with a cough as she zealously lapped up every last drop of his cum -- that moan, she realized, her face contorting into a frown as she released him from her mouth, would probably be the only satisfaction she would get tonight.  Well, that, and the symphony of _um_ ’s and _ah_ ’s and _oh sweet maker_ ’s that accompanied Cullen’s hasty retreat from her quarters.

Once her door had closed and Cullen’s thundering steps down the stairway had faded, Dalla shoved Solas’s chair back and flew up from under the desk, hitting her head as she stood.  

“Are you okay, da’len?” Solas asked, tucking himself back into his breeches.  

Dalla scowled at him, rubbing the sore spot on the crown of her head.  “What the fuck was that?” she spat.  

“That,” Solas said, standing and planting a kiss on her head before scooping his tome up in his arms and making his way towards the door, “was me finishing what you started.”

A long line of elven curses followed him from Dalla’s quarters, and he couldn’t help but laugh when he heard her flop down onto her bed and groan, “Dread Wolf take me.”  


	3. Patience Is a Virtue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dalla finally decides to be patient, and Solas teaches her that patience is indeed a virtue.

Another restless night, another morning spent glaring at an elf who was too smug for his own good.

It was getting old, fast.

All of Skyhold was well aware of the Inquisitor’s frustration, especially considering that every other word out of her mouth was a profanity.

“Pass the fuckin’ jam, Bull.”

“Shit boss, you could at least say please,” Bull laughed, dangling the jar in front of her.

Dalla sighed and held out one hand.  “Please pass the fuckin’ jam, Bull, before I shove it right up your ass.”

He snorted as he dropped the jar in her open palm.  “Someone’s pissy today.  You still not gettin’ any?”

She aggressively smeared the jam over her toast and made direct eye contact with Bull as she licked the knife clean.  “I swear I will murder you.”

He laughed and nudged her.  “I’ll take that as a yes.  You know boss, you ever need any help relieving stress, you know I’m here.”

“I will chop your dick off and choke you with it,” she grumbled.

 “Holy shit,” Varric said over Bull’s uproarious laughter, nearly choking on his porridge, “Chuckles, take care of her before she castrates half the Inquisition.”   

“He’s apparently too fuckin’ busy makin’ fuck-me eyes at Cullen,” Dalla grunted, glancing toward the commander; his entire face was flushed and he seemed to be expending a great deal of energy not making eye contact with either Solas or herself.  

“Your language is certainly very colorful this morning, lethallin,” Solas said, returning his attention to the scowling elf who was attempting to set his shirt on fire with her glare alone.  His eyes darted to Cullen for a moment and then back to her, and a smile crept its way across his lips.  

“Oh, vhenan,” Solas said, leaning over the table, “you’ve got something right.... here.”  He slowly drug his thumb over her bottom lip, and, almost reflexively, Dalla opened her mouth with a soft moan.

Across the tavern, a very red-faced Cullen slammed his hands down on the table, announced his leave, and power-walked out the door.

Dalla narrowed her eyes and snapped her teeth together.  “Ass,” she muttered as she made her own hasty retreat.  

“She’s cute when she’s angry,” Bull said.

Dalla held up both of her middle fingers as she walked out the door.

She tried her best to avoid Solas at all costs, and yet he always seemed to find her, and he always seemed to know that his breath on her ear was almost enough to make her cum in her pants.  She eventually decided to confine herself to her quarters with a cup of painfully bitter tea and a stack of reports.

The sun was low in the sky by the time Dalla was able to ignore the heat in her core long enough to focus on reading the reports Cullen had left for her the night before.  She settled into the plush red chair at her desk with a sigh, chewing on her lip and running a hand through her hair.  Slouching and stretching her legs out under her desk -- in the space where she had been curled up and hidden just the day before, Solas’s cock in her-

No.

Reports.

She shifted her weight and hunched over, elbows on the desk and head held in her hands, reading the same sentence four times over because she couldn’t get that damned elf out of her head.  Or in her pants.  Every thought was tainted by the image of him, the feel of him, lithe fingers and soft lips and-

Her door opened.

“Distracted, vhenan?”

Dalla refused to look up from her work.  “Not at all,” she said, pretending not to notice as he padded towards her, past her desk and behind her chair.  “What are you doing here?”

Solas hummed, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders.  “I thought you would like to know that I am finished with my studies for the evening.”  

“Good for you.”  She tensed as his fingers began working at the tight muscle of her shoulders, swallowing a moan.  “Do you mind?  I’m busy.”

“Ah.”  He removed his hands and stepped back.  “I apologize, then.  I shall take my leave.”

He got halfway to the door before Dalla shouted, “Wait.”

He stopped, looking over his shoulder, a smile playing at his lips.  “Yes, ma vhenan?”

The tiny elf shot out of her seat and raked long strands of blonde hair back out of her face as she strode towards him, her lips pulled into a tight line.  “You,” she jabbed a finger at his chest, “had better not,” she balled her fists in his shirt and stood on her tiptoes, her small nose almost touching his, “play any games with me tonight,” she growled.  

“I would do no such thing,” he said with feigned surprise, undoing the jeweled clasps of her shirt.  

“I’m warning you,” she began, shrugging the fabric from her shoulders and removing her breast band as Solas worked at the lacing of her breeches.

“Do not worry, vhenan,” he said, pulling down her pants and smallclothes in one swift motion and pausing as he knelt to look up at her, his mouth so tantalizingly close to her aching cunt.  “I always finish what I start.”  

Solas stood and took her face in his hands, planting a gentle kiss on her lips.  She whimpered softly and stepped out of her pants.  “If you don’t,” she muttered breathlessly as he walked her backwards to the bed, “I will end you.”  Giving him one last attempt at a glare, Dalla lowered herself to the bed and spread herself across the sheets, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back.  

Solas sat at the edge of the bed beside her, smiling as his dusty blue eyes raked over her naked form, his gaze tracing the crimson vallaslin etched into her soft, bronze skin that curved around her chest and over her hips.  

He ghosted his fingers over the swell of her breasts and the taut muscle of her abdomen, and smiled when she shivered and bucked her hips.  She bit her lip and looked at him, her eyes hazy with desire.  “Solas,” she moaned, and at the sound of his name, he began to trace the path of his fingers with his lips.  Dalla placed her hands on his shoulders and tried to push him down towards aching desire between her legs, the heat that had been building for far too long, but Solas merely chuckled against her skin and paused.

“Patience, da’len,” he said, and Dalla groaned, moving her hands to her sheets and wringing the cloth in her fingers.  

“Good girl,” he muttered in elven.  His fingers moved to her quivering thighs, gently parting them and lifting her legs over  his shoulders as his mouth moved over her mound.  Dalla’s breathing quickened and her knuckles turned white as she gripped the sheets -- she wanted nothing more than to shove his face in her cunt and hold him there until he finally fucking finished her, but she had no doubt in her mind that he would simply leave her to stew in the wet heat dripping down her thighs should she show anything less than extraordinary patience befitting of a god.  So she resigned herself to whimper as he slowly brought his mouth closer to her sex, as his fingers brushed over the sensitive skin of her thighs.

She screamed his name the second his tongue met her clit, and she came hard in his face before her cry finished echoing off the stone walls.  Her orgasm tore through her, the heat in her belly uncoiling and flashing through every inch of her body.  Solas grabbed her thighs, holding her down as her hips bucked and her legs shook.  Dalla shivered and whimpered as he chuckled against her; she squirmed as his mouth continued working her clit and he slipped two fingers inside of her, curling and working at the sensitive flesh.  She cried out in pleasure for half of Skyhold to hear, her mind growing too hazy to care who heard as Solas devoured her, made her come undone again and again.

Dalla broke through the fog of her pleasure enough to grunt “Taste” and tug at the wool of his shirt; when Solas left his position between her legs and crawled up her still quivering naked body, Dalla crushed her lips against his and thrust her tongue into his mouth, moaning loudly as she tasted herself on him.  He thrust his hard cock against her and forced another moan from her throat.  

“Is this what you want, vhenan?” he said, breaking away from her mouth to kiss down her neck, nipping at the soft skin and soothing it with his tongue.  

“Please,” she whimpered, wrapping her legs around his waist and rolling her hips against him.

“As you wish.”  Solas pulled away from her and edged off the bed, removing his shirt in one swift motion and standing with his hands on the laces of his breeches and a smirk on his face.  Dalla propped herself up on her elbows and whined.  Solas undid the lacing and hitched his thumbs under the waistband, and Dalla bit her lip.  He edged his pants down, slowly, over his hips and his hard cock, down his thighs.

Fuck him.

 _Fuck_ him.

It was the slowest strip tease she had ever seen, and dammit, it was making her squirm.

After what felt like an eternity, he stepped out of his breeches and crawled back over her; the second his lips met hers, Dalla threw her arms around his neck and flipped him onto his back, straddling him.  She paused for a moment, looking at him, begging for permission.  He did nothing to stop her.  She moaned as she lowered herself onto his cock, closing her eyes, revelling in how he stretched her, how he filled her.

She threw her head back as she rode him, her lips fluttering with a jumbled mix of common and elven, muttering praises and demanding more.  She wrung one of her hands through her hair, the other working at her breast, rolling her hardened nipple between her fingers, tugging at the small silver ring that pierced it.  Solas grabbed her hips and thrust hard into her, and she ground hard back against him, angling her hips so he pounded against the spot in her that made her scream, made her cunt clench hard around his cock as she came for him again.

With a groan he sat up, wrapping her legs around his waist and his hands around her thighs, kissing her hard as he rolled her onto her back.  Dalla raked her fingernails up the bare skin of his back and he growled, thrusting harder, fucking her with a reckless abandon that made her toes curl and her back arch and his name spill from her lips.  His mouth moved down her neck and he bit into her shoulder as his thrusts became erratic, and he groaned her name into her skin as her cunt clenched around him and he, too, came undone, spilling his seed inside of her.

He soothed the already reddening bite mark with his tongue as they stilled, their skin slick with sweat, Dalla’s chest heaving beneath him, her arms fallen loosely beside her.  Solas rolled to his side and drew her against his chest.  His fingers traced circles lazily at the small of her back, and he laughed at how the light touch made her shiver.

“Pleased, vhenan?” he said.

“Mmn,” Dalla purred, nodding her head and nuzzling against him  

He kissed the top of her head.  “Then I should hope that you remember the virtues of patience in the future.”

Dalla would have kicked him had her legs been capable of functioning.  Instead, she simply groaned the last of her anger against his chest, too tired to think of holding grudges, too drained to do anything but drift off in his arms to her first restful sleep in what felt like ages.


End file.
